I'm still in a little bit of shock. My little sister had her little boy!! He's over a week old now but I still can't quite believe he's here!
See, I'm the big sister. I have had that role/title since I was 19 months old. And I have lived what that role means. I've been the first to do the "firsts": steps, walking/talking, learn to read and write, go to school, graduate, college, move out, and yes, have a baby. I've been the one to show my two little sisters the ropes. I was there giving them their bottles when they were born and brought home from the hospital. I've shown them how to do a lot of things. I was a "little mommy" from the day my sister came home. And a little over a week ago my sister became the person someone will rely on; she became someone's mommy.
Way back in October, my little sister threw us all for a curve. She told us she was going to have a baby. We've waded through the holidays and showers and all 41 (yes 41!) weeks. He took his good sweet time getting here. Then, on a Wednesday afternoon I got a text that she was being admitted to be induced. Now I was induced with my first. It was planned. I was totally fine and cool with it. I'd actually been trying to figure out a way to get my sister's docs to induce her right at 40 weeks if he wasn't here--to no avail. Anyways. The text came and suddenly I realized what everyone else must have felt almost 3 years ago.
She was going to a hospital over an hour away so I had to make a decision. Do I take my almost-3-year-old and wait it out at the hospital? Or do I stay home and wait until the next morning and head that way? Or do I wait for a call she was pushing? Or do I wait for the text that the little guy was here? If I didn't have my daughter I would have gladly made that drive multiple times. But considering my girl is only "not even 3," I wasn't sure the hospital would even let her see her aunt and new cousin. So if they don't let her and I take her, we'd be sitting there for hours taking turns watching her. I'd force a lot of people to split their time between the newest member and her. And that wouldn't be fair to my sister or nephew. So I texted my sister to see what she needed. We agreed to wait at home until the "pushing" or "delivered" texts came in.
I think this will be one of the few times in my life I can appreciate
how my fiance felt as I delivered our daughter. I never really thought
how others would feel about me giving birth. I was cool with it. I
really wasn't that scared and the pain was expected so I wasn't going to
let myself get worked up over it. But knowing that someone you love so
so much will be going through that. Someone you have given blood, sweat,
and tears over and there's not a damn thing you can do. Sit there and
twiddle your thumbs. That's about it....
The next day the much awaited text came. I drove 90 minutes to get to the hospital. Hurry up and wait never made so much sense!! 4 hours we waited. Do you know how hard it is to keep a toddler entertained for FOUR HOURS?!?! In a waiting room? I mean -- Come On!! There's only so much pizza and donuts even a toddler can eat, only so much chocolate milk she can drink. We were all a little frazzled by the time we were allowed to see the new guy.
Did you know a kid can be totally stoked about being a big sister and totally ambivalent about being a big cousin? Yeah. My kid was just like "Well, that's cool. But he can just stay over there." Haha Not much has changed in the last week in that department either. Goofy kid!
I must say. I didn't think I could be so proud of someone when I had absolutely nothing to do with their accomplishment. Eh. Probably a side effect of being a big sister.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
The dreaded GLUCOSE TEST!
Okay, I'm not lazy or unmotivated. I swear. I actually have not one but TWO more posts started that I just need to finish. But I've had this "thing" looming over my head for a while now. Something that no pregnant woman wants to deal with....
The 3-hour glucose test!!!
See, every pregnant woman must take the 1-hour. That's a given. You go and drink straight sugar. 50 grams of liquid sugar. Do you know how much 50 grams of sugar is????? I mean, I'm totally not opposed to junk food and candy bars; cookies and cola. But--- 50 GRAMS?!?!? Then you have to sit there for an hour and have your blood drawn. It has to be under this magical number to qualify as passed.
Well I was 6 points over the allowed number. So I got the call. The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad call. That I would now how to take the 3 hour test.
And what does that entail, you may be asking. Well, know how I mentioned that you have to drink liquid sugar--50 grams of liquid sugar? Yeah well this time it was sugar on hyper-crack!!! I had to drink 100 grams of sugar.
Yeah. 100 GRAMS!!! That's nuts!!
It's flavored like lemon-lime sugar, little bit better than the Orange Crush/fake Push-Pop type drink from before. And I did get a cold drink, which is supposed to help. But it's just so much. It's so hard to actually get a decent amount of the liquid Sugar-Crack even into your mouth. You have 10oz of drink to finish but it's so awful I could only get like 1/2 an ounce at a time. On top of that, you have a time limit to choke it down. So I had to force myself not to spit out any or I'd have to start all over.
Finished the SC in time and then went to my check up right after. Figured I'd knock out two birds with one stone since the lab I have to go to is one floor down from my doctor. Little man is doing great. Right on track. My blood pressure was a little high. Hmmmm Wonder why?? After the check up I went back downstairs and had to wait another 20 minutes for the first blood draw. By that point I'm feeling a little shaky and kinda sick.
Fell asleep for the next hour. Another vial of blood. Awesome made it through 2 of the 3 hours.
That's when things got rough. See, if you throw up during the test, then it's voided. You have to go eat a massive, SUGARY breakfast and then wait 2 hours. There's no way I would have made it another two hours. So even though I was getting horrible shakes. Even though I tried to sleep and would be jolted back up when my leg suddenly shot out. And even though I could feel the sugar bile creeping up my throat, I knew I had to keep it down. Finally the lab tech came in and took the last vial. I was done. But did I pass? Wouldn't know until a day or two.
Managed to make it home. Rested the rest of the day. Headaches, shakes, itching... That was my rest of the day. I swear, that test is enough to make someone never want to get pregnant again!!
Called my doctor's office this morning. They only had the fasting, 1 hour, and 2 hour results. No 3 hour. Called the lab; was told the results were all sent. Called the doctor again. They called the 3rd Party Reviewer. Finally got some answers.
I passed. Barely. But I'll take it!! No shots, skin pricks, or uber-strict diet for me!! Now just waiting for little man's appearance.
P.S.: Did I mention the 3-hour test was on a Monday? Yeah. Totally terrible way to start my week!!
The 3-hour glucose test!!!
See, every pregnant woman must take the 1-hour. That's a given. You go and drink straight sugar. 50 grams of liquid sugar. Do you know how much 50 grams of sugar is????? I mean, I'm totally not opposed to junk food and candy bars; cookies and cola. But--- 50 GRAMS?!?!? Then you have to sit there for an hour and have your blood drawn. It has to be under this magical number to qualify as passed.
Well I was 6 points over the allowed number. So I got the call. The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad call. That I would now how to take the 3 hour test.
And what does that entail, you may be asking. Well, know how I mentioned that you have to drink liquid sugar--50 grams of liquid sugar? Yeah well this time it was sugar on hyper-crack!!! I had to drink 100 grams of sugar.
Yeah. 100 GRAMS!!! That's nuts!!
It's flavored like lemon-lime sugar, little bit better than the Orange Crush/fake Push-Pop type drink from before. And I did get a cold drink, which is supposed to help. But it's just so much. It's so hard to actually get a decent amount of the liquid Sugar-Crack even into your mouth. You have 10oz of drink to finish but it's so awful I could only get like 1/2 an ounce at a time. On top of that, you have a time limit to choke it down. So I had to force myself not to spit out any or I'd have to start all over.
Finished the SC in time and then went to my check up right after. Figured I'd knock out two birds with one stone since the lab I have to go to is one floor down from my doctor. Little man is doing great. Right on track. My blood pressure was a little high. Hmmmm Wonder why?? After the check up I went back downstairs and had to wait another 20 minutes for the first blood draw. By that point I'm feeling a little shaky and kinda sick.
Fell asleep for the next hour. Another vial of blood. Awesome made it through 2 of the 3 hours.
That's when things got rough. See, if you throw up during the test, then it's voided. You have to go eat a massive, SUGARY breakfast and then wait 2 hours. There's no way I would have made it another two hours. So even though I was getting horrible shakes. Even though I tried to sleep and would be jolted back up when my leg suddenly shot out. And even though I could feel the sugar bile creeping up my throat, I knew I had to keep it down. Finally the lab tech came in and took the last vial. I was done. But did I pass? Wouldn't know until a day or two.
Managed to make it home. Rested the rest of the day. Headaches, shakes, itching... That was my rest of the day. I swear, that test is enough to make someone never want to get pregnant again!!
Called my doctor's office this morning. They only had the fasting, 1 hour, and 2 hour results. No 3 hour. Called the lab; was told the results were all sent. Called the doctor again. They called the 3rd Party Reviewer. Finally got some answers.
I passed. Barely. But I'll take it!! No shots, skin pricks, or uber-strict diet for me!! Now just waiting for little man's appearance.
P.S.: Did I mention the 3-hour test was on a Monday? Yeah. Totally terrible way to start my week!!
Monday, May 23, 2016
When did I lose my bed??
I swear!! I've started and stopped writing on this post at least 4 times this week. The days are long, but never long enough.
Growing up my parents did NOT let us sleep in their bed. Just didn't happen. My mom made it known that a person's bed isn't just where they sleep. Their bed is like their sanctuary, a place where they are safe and feel comfy. We got to choose sheets and blankets and pillows to our hearts content. Me, I had a full size bed and over half of it would be full of books. I then went to a twin-sized bed for most of middle and high school; senior year my dad bought me this antique, 80-year old bed frame. It was gorgeous.
When I moved to the dorms I was "downgraded" back to a twin. Slept on probably the worst bed & mattress of all times for a solid 2 years, but it was my space. I shared a room for those two years, the second year with someone who would become one of my best friends. We have about 200 square feet between the two of us but we both knew the beds were our sanctuaries. When you don't have much space you really appreciate something like your own bed.
The next few years I bounced around between an apartment and the dorms (for my internship). But always, ALWAYS, the bed was my space. A space I wasn't required to share with anyone. Ahhh.
Then I met my fiance. First time I had to share space with anyone. He had a California King sized bed- almost twice what I was used to!- so you would think it wouldn't make a huge difference sharing vs no sharing. But it does! I don't care how big the bed is, as soon as you share it with someone, it loses some of that mystique, some of that appeal of being "your space." Now it is "our space." Okay. I can deal with that. I may not get the bed sheets, comforters, and pillows the color I want all the time; but it is still a safe zone.
Fast forward to when we found out we were going to have our first kiddo. We both swore up and down that we would NOT have the kid in the bed. That was our space.
Welp that went to hell in a hand basket around her first birthday. She cut like 3 teeth at once, got a summer flu, was severely congested and miserable. We let her sleep in our bed "just for the night." She'll be three in about 6 weeks and has maybe slept in her own bed two--MAYBE three--times since that night. #mommyfail
Wanna know why I was so determined to have her never be in my bed? Not because I'm a cruel and heartless mom. Not because I think she should have to Cry It Out. Not even solely because of the issues that can happen when a baby shares a bed with its parents. Nope. My reason was more selfish than that: I am the lightest sleeper ever. If a sheet or blanket moves on my bed, I will wake up. And if I don't get enough sleep I can be a real charmer. Bee charmer. "Sting you for looking at me the wrong way" type of thing. You know. Pleasant, as my southern friends like to say.
So here I am, 28 weeks pregnant and having enough trouble getting comfortable at night to sleep for more than two hours at a time as it is. My toddler is not a still-sleeper. She tosses and turns, kicks and hits, punches and pulls all night long. I wake up in the middle of the night just to remove her from my back, so close it's like an abnormal growth!!
BUT, the point of this blog is to find the blessing in this. This thing that irritates the piss out of me, makes me grouchy and grumpy most days, and has put more bruises on me than 20 years of sports. Wanna know what it is? It's the trust my daughter has in me. See, even when she's dead asleep, couldn't-wake-her-if-you-shook-her asleep, she will go from whatever random position she has put herself in and find me. She knows I'm there. She snuggles up close. And sometimes, even in her deepest sleep, she will whisper "You're MY mommy. You're my best friend ever." She places her little toddler arm around my neck or across my chest, and she's content. She knows in the deepest part of her that I am one of the few people she will always be able to count on. Me and her dad. We're the consistent forces for her.
So that's it. That's my grateful. Even on days when I don't get enough sleep, when I've had the Day From Hell, my daughter shows me I'm doing it right. I won't be the nicest person to her all the time, but she will know that I do love her all the time.
And maybe this is good prep for when the next little man gets her. Can't get too comfortable at night, right? Have to be ready for multiple nightly feedings. Joy oh Joy.
Growing up my parents did NOT let us sleep in their bed. Just didn't happen. My mom made it known that a person's bed isn't just where they sleep. Their bed is like their sanctuary, a place where they are safe and feel comfy. We got to choose sheets and blankets and pillows to our hearts content. Me, I had a full size bed and over half of it would be full of books. I then went to a twin-sized bed for most of middle and high school; senior year my dad bought me this antique, 80-year old bed frame. It was gorgeous.
When I moved to the dorms I was "downgraded" back to a twin. Slept on probably the worst bed & mattress of all times for a solid 2 years, but it was my space. I shared a room for those two years, the second year with someone who would become one of my best friends. We have about 200 square feet between the two of us but we both knew the beds were our sanctuaries. When you don't have much space you really appreciate something like your own bed.
The next few years I bounced around between an apartment and the dorms (for my internship). But always, ALWAYS, the bed was my space. A space I wasn't required to share with anyone. Ahhh.
Then I met my fiance. First time I had to share space with anyone. He had a California King sized bed- almost twice what I was used to!- so you would think it wouldn't make a huge difference sharing vs no sharing. But it does! I don't care how big the bed is, as soon as you share it with someone, it loses some of that mystique, some of that appeal of being "your space." Now it is "our space." Okay. I can deal with that. I may not get the bed sheets, comforters, and pillows the color I want all the time; but it is still a safe zone.
Fast forward to when we found out we were going to have our first kiddo. We both swore up and down that we would NOT have the kid in the bed. That was our space.
Welp that went to hell in a hand basket around her first birthday. She cut like 3 teeth at once, got a summer flu, was severely congested and miserable. We let her sleep in our bed "just for the night." She'll be three in about 6 weeks and has maybe slept in her own bed two--MAYBE three--times since that night. #mommyfail
Wanna know why I was so determined to have her never be in my bed? Not because I'm a cruel and heartless mom. Not because I think she should have to Cry It Out. Not even solely because of the issues that can happen when a baby shares a bed with its parents. Nope. My reason was more selfish than that: I am the lightest sleeper ever. If a sheet or blanket moves on my bed, I will wake up. And if I don't get enough sleep I can be a real charmer. Bee charmer. "Sting you for looking at me the wrong way" type of thing. You know. Pleasant, as my southern friends like to say.
So here I am, 28 weeks pregnant and having enough trouble getting comfortable at night to sleep for more than two hours at a time as it is. My toddler is not a still-sleeper. She tosses and turns, kicks and hits, punches and pulls all night long. I wake up in the middle of the night just to remove her from my back, so close it's like an abnormal growth!!
BUT, the point of this blog is to find the blessing in this. This thing that irritates the piss out of me, makes me grouchy and grumpy most days, and has put more bruises on me than 20 years of sports. Wanna know what it is? It's the trust my daughter has in me. See, even when she's dead asleep, couldn't-wake-her-if-you-shook-her asleep, she will go from whatever random position she has put herself in and find me. She knows I'm there. She snuggles up close. And sometimes, even in her deepest sleep, she will whisper "You're MY mommy. You're my best friend ever." She places her little toddler arm around my neck or across my chest, and she's content. She knows in the deepest part of her that I am one of the few people she will always be able to count on. Me and her dad. We're the consistent forces for her.
So that's it. That's my grateful. Even on days when I don't get enough sleep, when I've had the Day From Hell, my daughter shows me I'm doing it right. I won't be the nicest person to her all the time, but she will know that I do love her all the time.
And maybe this is good prep for when the next little man gets her. Can't get too comfortable at night, right? Have to be ready for multiple nightly feedings. Joy oh Joy.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
3am Wake-Ups: Why you SHOULD be thankful!
So.
Last night my daughter was full tilt boogie at 8pm with no nap. Mind you, she looked like a drunk frat boy!! Haha She was all over the place. Volume on 10. Coordination at 0 (maybe a 1....maybe). Everything she saw made her "excited" and she just had to tell us every detail--a couple of times! By 8:30 she was still rarin' to go! I on the --other hand-- was not. I had had a very long day and at 24 weeks pregnant had little energy left in the reserve. I took her upstairs, put the TV on to "let her relax," and proceeded to conk out by 9/9:15pm. No clue when she went to sleep, but I will say she didn't try and wake me up. And for that I love her immensely! haha
Again, I am 24 weeks pregnant. It is difficult to get to sleep some nights. And impossible to stay asleep most nights. Up until last night though, that was only because my belly would get in the way when I tried to roll over. Or my Restless Leg Syndrome would wake me up. Or I would be unbearably hot from the bed sheet being on my. And usually I can get myself back to sleep within an hour or so. Last night/This morning, didn't happen.
My soonish-to-be-born son is (well WAS) a creature of habit, even at this stage. He likes to play at 6:30am and 10:30pm. He starts doing "laps" in my belly like a swimmer in a pool, pushing off one side to get to the other, then flipping, pushing off again, and repeat. Then he sits in the middle and gets his Tae Bo on like Billy Blanks is on channel W-WOMB or something!
Today though. Well today he was up at 3:30am. Which means, so was I. And today I wasn't able to go back to sleep. Needless to say it will be another long, long day.
Now back to the title of the post: Why you should love 3am wake ups.
Because I have been up since the ungodly hour of 3:30am, I decided to try and do some of my around-the-house things. Dishwasher? Ran. Trash? Out. Living Room? Tidied. Playroom? Nevermind, she'll just destroy that 4 minutes after she wakes up.
Moving on...
Mail? Sorted and put away. Today's To Do List? Written out and on the kitchen table. The things I'll need for today are on the dining room table by our front door so I don't forget them. My daughter's clothes for the day are laid out. I put the newest baby items received in the nursery. Looked over the things I've bought for my mom and FMIL for Mother's Day to make sure they are good to go. Piddled around on social media for a bit.
And I have written another blog post.
So see? Getting up at 3:30am can be a good thing. Now I'll be able to actually style my hair today, as opposed to just spritzing water on it and saying it's the "beachy waves" look. I might actually make it out the door by a decent time today. And I won't be too stressed doing that. Hopefully.
I have no intention of doing this again for a while, but --occasionally-- a 3am wake up can be a good thing. Now I'm going to go downstairs, make my iced tea, and be UN-productive for a bit.
It's all about balance!
Last night my daughter was full tilt boogie at 8pm with no nap. Mind you, she looked like a drunk frat boy!! Haha She was all over the place. Volume on 10. Coordination at 0 (maybe a 1....maybe). Everything she saw made her "excited" and she just had to tell us every detail--a couple of times! By 8:30 she was still rarin' to go! I on the --other hand-- was not. I had had a very long day and at 24 weeks pregnant had little energy left in the reserve. I took her upstairs, put the TV on to "let her relax," and proceeded to conk out by 9/9:15pm. No clue when she went to sleep, but I will say she didn't try and wake me up. And for that I love her immensely! haha
Again, I am 24 weeks pregnant. It is difficult to get to sleep some nights. And impossible to stay asleep most nights. Up until last night though, that was only because my belly would get in the way when I tried to roll over. Or my Restless Leg Syndrome would wake me up. Or I would be unbearably hot from the bed sheet being on my. And usually I can get myself back to sleep within an hour or so. Last night/This morning, didn't happen.
My soonish-to-be-born son is (well WAS) a creature of habit, even at this stage. He likes to play at 6:30am and 10:30pm. He starts doing "laps" in my belly like a swimmer in a pool, pushing off one side to get to the other, then flipping, pushing off again, and repeat. Then he sits in the middle and gets his Tae Bo on like Billy Blanks is on channel W-WOMB or something!
Today though. Well today he was up at 3:30am. Which means, so was I. And today I wasn't able to go back to sleep. Needless to say it will be another long, long day.
Now back to the title of the post: Why you should love 3am wake ups.
Because I have been up since the ungodly hour of 3:30am, I decided to try and do some of my around-the-house things. Dishwasher? Ran. Trash? Out. Living Room? Tidied. Playroom? Nevermind, she'll just destroy that 4 minutes after she wakes up.
Moving on...
Mail? Sorted and put away. Today's To Do List? Written out and on the kitchen table. The things I'll need for today are on the dining room table by our front door so I don't forget them. My daughter's clothes for the day are laid out. I put the newest baby items received in the nursery. Looked over the things I've bought for my mom and FMIL for Mother's Day to make sure they are good to go. Piddled around on social media for a bit.
And I have written another blog post.
So see? Getting up at 3:30am can be a good thing. Now I'll be able to actually style my hair today, as opposed to just spritzing water on it and saying it's the "beachy waves" look. I might actually make it out the door by a decent time today. And I won't be too stressed doing that. Hopefully.
I have no intention of doing this again for a while, but --occasionally-- a 3am wake up can be a good thing. Now I'm going to go downstairs, make my iced tea, and be UN-productive for a bit.
It's all about balance!
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
How This Even Came About
Okay moms (and dads) out there...
How many of you are stressed? Like to the point you want to SCREAM when you walk in the door. Lordy-bee help me if I am the only one. I can't be, right?
I have an almost three year old. She has gotten into a phase that I am just not digging. The "I do it myself" and "This is the rules" stage. Everything takes a million times longer to do than I'm used to and that stresses me out. When she wants her own way she will look at me and say "You say no but I say yes. And I'm the baby and that's the rules." No clue where she got that from but MAN can it cause a meltdown. Hers or mine, depending on the day.
And soon we will be adding a little man to our home. So I'm a hormonal mess right now. Into the 6th month (technically 23 weeks, so however you determine that in pregnancy language) and spring is peeking its head out of those cruddy North-Midwestern clouds. One day we have 85* and the next we're lucky to top out at 60. Ugh. After all my years up here and I'm still not mentally ready for the crazy changes in weather.
I just recently got engaged too. We're planning the wedding for next year, but I am trying to get everything done or prepped as much as possible now, before the baby gets here. I know me: I won't have a ton of time once the little guy gets here. And I won't be happy if I have to settle on a lot the closer we get to the day. So I'm scheduling tastings for the food and cake, visits with the florists, meetings with the DJ people... And freaking out that I might forget something vitally important! I could have hired someone to do all this for me, but that seems like a waste of money when we are staying on a budget.
Okay. So that's my back story. The cranky toddler, the pregnancy hormones, the wedding planning, the "I'm stuck in the house almost all day every day" lifestyle. It was all adding up to make me really frustrated.
When one day I was in the car with my toddler and I looked at her in my rearview mirror. She was just sitting there -quiet- and I realized that I take my life for granted. I am very lucky to have my toddler. She is feisty and smart and physically capable of so much. Even when she is fighting me, I am lucky that she is cognizant enough of what's going on around her and what I am saying that she can make HER point, even if I don't LIKE her point!
I decided in that minute that I would force myself to find something to be grateful for EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And yes, I am well aware that some days it will be an act, a force, a decision to be grateful. Because life is stressful and who knows how my hormones will react to things. Heck, a change in wind direction could ruin my day!! You just never know!! So I walked my little girl into the bookstore and grabbed a journal. I spent quite a few minutes choosing just the right journal for this new venture.
When I got home, I grabbed a book I have already read 2 or 3 times. The Happiness Project was one I read before I started dating my fiance and I really enjoyed it. It was fun and funny and informative. It made me rethink how I do things and why I do things. So I decided to go back there and re-read it. I thought "Well, heck, I'll feel even more accomplished when I can fly through this book since I've read it once before!" Eh eh
I put the book and the journal in my purse. That way it's a constant reminder to get my butt in gear and get grateful! Today I decided that I'm going to (try to) write once a week on a blog about what crap hit the fan, and why I am grateful for it. So today was blog prep day.
And.. CHECK! Totally feel accomplished now! Haha
How many of you are stressed? Like to the point you want to SCREAM when you walk in the door. Lordy-bee help me if I am the only one. I can't be, right?
I have an almost three year old. She has gotten into a phase that I am just not digging. The "I do it myself" and "This is the rules" stage. Everything takes a million times longer to do than I'm used to and that stresses me out. When she wants her own way she will look at me and say "You say no but I say yes. And I'm the baby and that's the rules." No clue where she got that from but MAN can it cause a meltdown. Hers or mine, depending on the day.
And soon we will be adding a little man to our home. So I'm a hormonal mess right now. Into the 6th month (technically 23 weeks, so however you determine that in pregnancy language) and spring is peeking its head out of those cruddy North-Midwestern clouds. One day we have 85* and the next we're lucky to top out at 60. Ugh. After all my years up here and I'm still not mentally ready for the crazy changes in weather.
I just recently got engaged too. We're planning the wedding for next year, but I am trying to get everything done or prepped as much as possible now, before the baby gets here. I know me: I won't have a ton of time once the little guy gets here. And I won't be happy if I have to settle on a lot the closer we get to the day. So I'm scheduling tastings for the food and cake, visits with the florists, meetings with the DJ people... And freaking out that I might forget something vitally important! I could have hired someone to do all this for me, but that seems like a waste of money when we are staying on a budget.
Okay. So that's my back story. The cranky toddler, the pregnancy hormones, the wedding planning, the "I'm stuck in the house almost all day every day" lifestyle. It was all adding up to make me really frustrated.
When one day I was in the car with my toddler and I looked at her in my rearview mirror. She was just sitting there -quiet- and I realized that I take my life for granted. I am very lucky to have my toddler. She is feisty and smart and physically capable of so much. Even when she is fighting me, I am lucky that she is cognizant enough of what's going on around her and what I am saying that she can make HER point, even if I don't LIKE her point!
I decided in that minute that I would force myself to find something to be grateful for EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And yes, I am well aware that some days it will be an act, a force, a decision to be grateful. Because life is stressful and who knows how my hormones will react to things. Heck, a change in wind direction could ruin my day!! You just never know!! So I walked my little girl into the bookstore and grabbed a journal. I spent quite a few minutes choosing just the right journal for this new venture.
When I got home, I grabbed a book I have already read 2 or 3 times. The Happiness Project was one I read before I started dating my fiance and I really enjoyed it. It was fun and funny and informative. It made me rethink how I do things and why I do things. So I decided to go back there and re-read it. I thought "Well, heck, I'll feel even more accomplished when I can fly through this book since I've read it once before!" Eh eh
I put the book and the journal in my purse. That way it's a constant reminder to get my butt in gear and get grateful! Today I decided that I'm going to (try to) write once a week on a blog about what crap hit the fan, and why I am grateful for it. So today was blog prep day.
And.. CHECK! Totally feel accomplished now! Haha
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